Generators and Decisions

A nigerian reality

God!

I’m up because there’s no light, and with my night wear draped in sweat, i opened the windows for some fresh air, the noise from the generators were what greeted me, drowning everything else. 

Now, i have to leave the windows open and battle with the noises which automatically means no sleep. What sort of life is this, i hate this place so much, in-fact i hate nigeria, who send me come this country god abeg. 

Frustrated, I went back to bed, laid down, and stared at the ceiling, waiting for sleep to come. Still waiting, my mind began to wander, slowly at first, then with an overwhelming rush.

“Why am i in this country? Why is this my reality?” The thought clung to me like the heat in the room, suffocating and relentless. Memories of the day played on a loop in my head the endless struggles, the constant fight for basic necessities, the feeling of being stuck, the overall madness. (i literally witnessed a fight between a wheelbarrow pusher and a mad man) I couldn’t help but wonder, Is this how it’s meant to be? sometimes i catch myself dreaming of a place where generators aren’t the constant lullaby that sing you to sleep. 

I pulled the pillow over my head, trying to drown out the noise, not just from the generators, but from my mind as well. then the faint tune of a Taylor swift song floated the room from my roommates’ it reminded me of wide open streets, and city lights. 

What if I left? Packed my bags, got on a plane, and never looked back, like they do in those Hollywood movies, i could probably go to Los Angeles, live out my Victorious(a show)dreams. No but seriously, What would life be like somewhere else? Would the air feel lighter, the nights quieter, the sweat of survival replaced with the thrill of possibility?

The generator hums outside seemed to mock me. “Dream all you want”

Ah Jehovah! 

I sighed deeply, the ceiling still holding my gaze. If this country wouldn’t give me peace and happiness, I’d find a way to create it. 

But how?

As quickly as the thought appeared, a pang of guilt followed “would leaving mean giving up? Running away from the very place that shape me?” i walked towards the fridge to get the pure water i opened before. This place isn’t enough for me anymore, i kept wandering. From queuing for fuel, to dealing with the corrupt system, to fighting for my life everyday going to and fro to work. “how much longer can i fight this battle”? 

My mind drifted to my little cousin Chisom, telling her friends of how she would want to be like “Aunty Adaugo” What would she think if i gave up on this place? would i be teaching her that the only what to succeed is to leave?

I sat up, the sweat on my nightie had already dried, but the weight of my decision felt unbearable, like i was standing at the edge of a cliff, staring into the unknown. Maybe i don’t have to choose between leaving and staying, Maybe i can leave to learn, grow and then come back and make things better for my loved ones. 

Finally, the idea of this gave me a strange sense of comfort. As i laid back down, a small smile tugged at the corner of my lips 

Tomorrow, I would start looking into scholarships, remote job opportunities, or anything that could give me a foot out the door while keeping my heart tethered to home

For the first time that night, the noise didn’t feel so loud. My eyes grew heavy and the first hint of sleep teased at the edges of my consciousness, I silently made a promise to myself, I wouldn’t let the noise define me. 

Tomorrow would be different. 

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